Following Up on the Fall

After my fall last Friday, I had a weekend to reflect and think and try to suppress the paranoia that wanted to build up. I committed myself to riding every day possible this week, even if I didn't want to. (I still ended up riding only 2 out of 4 days - but I bought some new boots!)

Tuesday, I did some work in the paddock, bringing out the old target stick and clicker. I brought her up and rode for 20-30 minutes. Light walk and trot with lots of clicks for downward transitions.

Wednesday I did another 5-10 minutes of ground work, using the target stick and walking together, before tacking up and getting on. I rode for about 40 minutes and we did walk, trot and canter then trotted over a cross-rail twice. Matilda did beautifully. She felt good and I really enjoyed the ride. Still lots of click and reward for downward transitions and some for random obediences.

I made an effort to spend more time with Matilda around our rides. I enjoyed a game of "peek-a-boo"/"hide and seek" with her - myself crouching below her stall windows and calling to her until she found me. Fun.


The fall, so dramatic last week, is past and out of my head. I got to sit and watch Matilda in a lesson yesterday. She looked good and relaxed with a happy rider. Now I'm just looking forward to another fun week with her.

First Fall

Well, hardly my first fall. I guess I should call this, "First Fall Off Matilda".

It's been an interesting couple of weeks since my last post about the brilliance of Matilda. I think it was the day after that post that she walked away from me into the giant, composting manure pile. She hasn't done that in almost a year. (see: "Matilda's Day Out" 2/25/11).

A day or two after that she tried to walk away while I was mounting her. Then tried to walk away while I was dismounting her. I lost my temper that day and whacked her on the rear as my feet touched the ground. Not cool, although she looked beautiful cantering across the ring and in circles all tacked up like that, sans rider. I was watching her, standing next to the mounting block. Sigh.

That was the day I realized that she and I were not enjoying our time together. I had slipped into full work mode and as I was riding her, after spending 20 minutes re-teaching her how to stand still while I got on, I took a moment to breathe and really noticed her. I don't know how to describe it, except to say everything felt flat. No buoyancy, no joy. There was no desire in me to cry out or laugh as we cantered down the straightaway and no lightness in her big ole trot step. It was what it was, namely all work and no play.

A brief confab with Rachel resulted in my decision to take some time off of riding Matilda.

Which brings us to this past Friday. Knowing she hadn't been ridden in a week and that she would normally be used in two lessons on Saturday, I had to get on her Friday and make sure things were ok. I was looking forward to it. I had taken more than a week off before and found no changes in her so I wasn't worried at all about riding. All her quirks showed up on the ground. Right?

She was a little stiff and I found her shoulders a little harder to contain than normal but after a week off, nothing unexpected. I asked for a canter transition and she picked it up with a head toss. No good. We tried again, another head toss. Third time's the charm so I asked her to pick up the canter again. I don't know what happened but she took off. Honestly, I wasn't sure she had that kind of speed in her and I was completely unprepared. I'm not sure it would have helped if I had been.

I lost a stirrup in the first sharp turn to avoid going over the jump and tipped onto her neck, losing the reins in the second sharp turn. I remember looking at the ground and the rail that she was racing along, as my foot made a half-hearted attempt to find a stirrup, and heard myself say out loud, in an oddly calm and typically sarcastic voice, "Well this just isn't gonna' work." What an odd thing to say.

At this point I began letting myself slide off her back, trying as much as possible at this pace, to land between her and the fence, REALLY not wanting to land on one nor under the other.

I hit hard and heard a nice CRACK! as the back of my helmet hit the ground. The immediate thought that went through my mind? 'I get to go to The Farmhouse in Landrum and get a new helmet! Maybe lunch at The Hare and Hound!' So odd what goes through your mind. And all of this probably unfolded in under a minute.

Adrenaline was pumping but at the same time I felt oddly calm. Two years ago, after a fall like this, I would have had to have been hand walked (someone holding the lunge line or lead rope... a pony ride)around the ring. You might have been lucky to get me around once or twice and that just because someone would have made me and so that I could say "Yes" when people asked if I got back on.

Boy have I come a long way in the last two years.

I got Matilda from the people who stopped her running (Kim and Rachel I think, that part is lost in the rush) dumped my busted helmet and borrowed one from one of our borders and friends, sweet Lindsey. I walked and halted beside Matilda for a few minutes, just trying to get a handle on her energy. She was quiet. Back up I went. No one walking beside me, no one holding on. We walked and stopped some more but this time with me in the saddle. Still no weirdness. We picked up the trot and trotted and walked in circles and little figure eights. I finished by trotting a figure eight with three steps of canter in both directions. After the fall we rode for 20-30 minutes.

Boy have I come a long way in the last year. (Quasi-repetition intentional. I do not have a concussion ;)

The bad news is that in the critical moment of running off, my mind still goes blank and my body still locks up, giving me zero chance of recovering control from a position actually up on the horse. I think we can all agree that would be a good thing.

The good news is that I have high hopes that my quick recovery of nerves and occasional lucid moments as the drama unfolded means that next time I might be able to hold it together even better. My brain knows what to do, it just has to continue functioning in that moment.

Tomorrow I am back at the barn and am actually looking forward to working with and riding Matilda. I have a sort of loose plan for the day and will most likely spend some time doing some stretching and ground work before I hop on. Work will be light: walk and trot. I'm going to try to spend the next few weeks paying attention to Matilda, trying to listen to her body language and movement. Making sure, as best I can, that nothing weird is going on with her and trying to re-establish some sort of connection.

I will also be getting myself back into Yoga regularly. Since the holidays I have been super lazy about it. I need to spend the time making sure that my mind is quiet (how can I listen to what she may be trying to tell me if my mind is full of noise?) and my body is as soft, supple and balanced as I want Matilda's to be. On Friday, I rode for 15 minutes before I realized my stirrups were uneven. Seriously?!

Lastly, I will be paying attention to the portents all around me. Looking back to Friday, they were all over the place, ala Final Destination. Everything from talking with Rachel about needing to embrace and not fear falling to actually falling when my heel caught in a gate I was trying to crawl through to knocking my water bottle off a counter and hearing it crack as the top broke. Yes, the same crack I heard when my helmet hit the ground... only the second was louder. If only I had been paying attention.

OK, that last one is sort of silly but I do think I need to pay more attention to what is going on around me. I started to take Matilda for granted and paid for it. She has given me some brilliantly striking reminders of who and what she is, I need to remember and respect that.

We rarely get to know why a run off or kick or buck happens. I spend a lot of time analyzing, trying to figure out the whys and wherefores of it all but the simple truth is stuff happens, for whatever reason. In a perfect world there would be no run offs and no falls but in our world the only way to avoid falling off a horse is not to ride at all. That ain't gonna' happen.

P.S. I got my new helmet today and am ready to go! I'll try to let you know what happens...

A New Year and A New World for Matilda

Just over one year ago, I started working with Matilda. My original goal was to work on her ground manners until she was considered "manageable" and "lunge-able"; to work her on the lunge until she was deemed ready to ride.... ready for someone else to ride, that is. I wasn't going to do it.

Oh, how times and plans changed. And changed. And changed again. That's ok, I'm allowed to change my plans since I have never done this before:/ Since my last post in October, plans changed again and things have progressed at an exponential rate. The whole "therapy horse" and learning to respond to voice commands idea is on the shelf, not gone - never gone. The barn needs school horses now and may need therapy horses someday. "Need now" won and I began to think seriously and somewhat aggressively about what needed to happen before we put Matilda into the lesson program. The lunge line is gone. Some time ago I decided it was simply unnecessary. The clicker and reward are all but gone, brought out only when there is a specific problem that needs to be worked on.

So what's been happening instead? Here's a summary:

On October 21, I took a first riding lesson on Matilda. It was the first time that we had to accomplish tasks given to us by an outsider, my instructor, boss and Matilda's owner, Kim. When I began this, I never would have imagined myself on Matilda in a lesson, much less working on leg yields, trot poles and canter transitions (that would be a mere 3 weeks after our first canter steps together. About 3 months or 24 rides after the first time I got on her). I was full of performance anxiety before the lesson, so afraid that we would tense up and Kim would not be able to see all that I had been able to do on Matilda. That was not the case. Matilda performed brilliantly and it made my novice trainer's heart soar to hear her described as "supple", "soft" and "relaxed" by her owner and my boss.

Matilda test one-check!

At some point in November (I think, I didn't make note of the date) I asked Rachel (the other instructor/trainer) to get on Matilda and try her out. She rode walk/trot/canter and then we put her on the lunge line to simulate a beginner lesson. Rachel tried to emulate all of the things that she's seen novice rider's do to a horse; things that can elicit a poor response from said horse. (It was worth doing just to watch Rachel flop around like that!) Matilda absorbed them all without issue. If things got too out of whack, she stopped or slowed.

Matilda test two-check!

On December 10, I taught one of Kim's advanced students on Matilda.

Matilda test three-check! Passed with flying colors. In fact, this student is continuing to use Matilda in her regular lessons.



In the midst of these tests, I was riding Matilda 2-4 days a week. Trying to ride for about an hour (the length of most lessons) and building the duration of our trotting to make sure her stamina was decent. Of course, we threw in some canter as well. As part of her training and testing, I walked and/or trotted past squeaky truck breaks, ATVs, dogs, goats and horses being turned out or brought in; we also raced squirrels down the side of the arena. As hard as I tried, she spooked at nothing. Almost every ride I had was a good, working ride. I have been so impressed and elated with her as a riding partner throughout the last few months. Don't want you to think everything's been perfect (actually, I do)...

It has not been smooth sailing all the way through. There was the day that Matilda decided to play statue. It didn't matter what I did, I could not get her to move one little bit. She may have even been holding her breath. I must have looked hilarious that day, lifting my legs as high as I could and bringing them down into her side while she stood there - I'm pretty sure she was yawning when she wasn't holding her breath. That was the day I re-introduced Matilda to the dressage whip. I was nervous about that one, afraid I would tap her with it and she would take off or jump out of the ring. I started by tapping her lightly on the rump - I don't think her ears moved on that one. After some trial, I found that three (not one, but three) good cracks on the rump got her moving. Barely. And I was afraid she would take off. Sheesh!

Then there was the day that I was un-tacking and right before I got the halter on, while the reins were still around her neck, she decided to walk away. I didn't want my bridle to be broken (Smart, huh?) so I sort of stumbled along behind her as she walked into a stall, pinned me against a wall and started to eat. (If this happens to anyone else, just let go of the bridle, by the way). A couple of days later she did it again, only this time she did have the halter on and was in the cross ties. She just decided to walk away. She lifted her head, broke both the cross ties, turned around and walked away. It's quite shocking when she does this, mainly because I go into a panic and she is so d-n calm about it. Her calmness makes me mad.

I've found that the best thing to do in these situations is stop her almost before she starts, right at that moment where her mind is made up to go (which means I actually have to pay attention and be proactive, yuck), or let her go. If you try to hang on or throw a rope around her neck, she just goes faster. If I miss the chance to stop her, I just have to wait until she stops (usually to eat), gather the reins or put on the halter and then she just comes with me. Like nothing happened. We're still working on this. When she is in the cross ties, she is not allowed to move a muscle... Or I just tack her up in a stall when I'm lazy about it. :D


And so, after 2+ years in pasture, 7 months of relationship building ground work and 5 months under saddle, Matilda is a working member of the barn and starting to earn her keep. She has 3 riders, besides myself, who use her in regular lessons ranging in skill level from novice to advanced. Two of these lessons are back to back and she is able to function and move well for two hours straight, even through meal time.

Matilda and I continue to move through our walk, trot, canter work. We had a lesson with Kim yesterday and our focus will be on transitions, esp. the downward transitions. With all that draft in her and that big head, she does tend keep her weight on her front legs, pulling her rear end behind her. We will be working on helping her shift her center back so that the energy and drive comes from the back to the front with more consistency. You know, like a well-balanced horse should.

Here's a video of me on Matilda waaaay back in November. This is a little rough as we had finished a long ride and were half way through our cool down before someone asked to record. I had a video of her in a lesson that I wanted to post, but broke my phone before I pulled the video off. Sigh. I'll try to get more....

http://youtu.be/0iTDD9ov6gU


To a certain extent, my job with Matilda is done. She is no longer left in the pasture. Kids don't look out, point and say, "Who's that? Does anyone ever ride her?" She is well known, earning her keep and, most importantly, well loved. Everyone who has been on her has thoroughly enjoyed riding her. Everyone (and I have asked) has felt safe and in control on her - willing to push and see how much they can do the very first time they are on her.

Now my ever-evolving job is to fine tune and see how much she is capable of doing. To learn as much as I can from her while I am teaching her. She makes me spend a lot of time thinking about how and why things are supposed to work the way they do: analyzing my aids and owning each one fully so that I can be more consistent for her. Analyzing the way her body works and what she needs from me so that she can achieve the shape and movement that I want and that others will be asking for someday. Someday soon, probably.

What I've Learned From Matilda

Reading is bad. Learning is bad... Well, it can be, anyway. I've been reading and learning so much about horse behavior and the horse/human relationship this past month. It's been amazing but sometimes when you learn lots of knew cool stuff, you get excited and want to use it all at once or it makes you feel like everything you've been doing has been somehow wrong.

Last month, I had some really great rides with longer periods of trot including more schooling figures, ie circles and figure eights. But then I threw out most of what I had been doing a couple of weeks ago and tried to do something else. Frustration ensued on both sides. I had slipped into a mind set of trying to force her to do what I wanted, using traditional pressure and release - pressure telling her what I want her to do and release being the only reward for doing it.

I realized this week that Matilda has expectations of me and of how things are going to go between us. She expects to have a certain amount of freedom of movement and to be able to make choices and figure things out and be lavishly rewarded for doing so. I have expectations of Matilda and how quickly she can learn. I took a lot of this away and, while I may have been able to muscle through doing things in a different way (and I do mean muscle), it wasn't achieving one of my primary goals for Matilda. Namely creating in her a willing partner.

This week I went back to what we do. I loaded up my little carrot pail and went through all that we know and she did really well with our ground work, including lunging. Still no breakaways. I don't think she's really trying anymore. Under saddle work was not so good. She was all bendy. I couldn't get her to go in a straight line and she was dragging me all over the place. Frustration. I'd find myself practically scraping against the rail one minute then in the middle of the ring the next. She was cutting corners and going in tiny circles - that was at the walk. What little trotting we accomplished was no better, with the addition of random stops without warning. I arrived home from the barn complaining about the tension and soreness from elbow to elbow, across the backs of my arms and between my shoulders, from trying to steer my beastie.

Today was shaping up to be the same. There were people in the ring, as had been the case all week, which makes me nervous. I worry that Matilda will take off, I won't be able to control her and we will go careening into small children. (Notice the words: nervous, worry, tension?) She was still bendy, but not quite as bad as she had been. I started to think about the fact that, in my fear for others, I had really been holding onto those reins, holding her head up and trying to keep her in frame, in position, with my hands. No freedom of movement. Restricting her choices. Click! for me, not her. As we picked up the trot, I started to let the reins slide through my fingers with great conscious effort. Almost as soon as the reins loosened, Matilda's head dropped and she straightened out. With my hands out of the way, my legs were able to do their job and she listened to them beautifully. We trotted through straight lines, circles and changes of direction. No sudden stops this time.

We finished up with our first few steps of requested canter together. That was a little crazy but very, very cool.

So what has Matilda been trying to teach me for the last few weeks?
Relax and trust the work we've been doing.
Relax and trust the relationship we've been building.

Who are we? We're the ones trotting circles around you!

It was a weird and wonderful week last week. Heat was on the rise and I spent most of the week not wanting to do anything. Sort of staring at the sky. I managed some work in the cross ties and some ground work (ups and overs) on Tuesday and Thursday but it was Friday that was total gold.

Since I hadn't worked with her but 45 minutes all week, I went in on Friday planning to touch lightly on everything. A little bit in cross ties, ground work, on the longe line and under saddle. She was very quiet in the cross ties (as she usually is while tacking up) and I am happy to say that when I tap on her shoulder or hip followed by her fetlock (ankle) she lifts her foot on her own so that I can slip my hand underneath and clean her hooves. Not perfectly, mind you, she pulls a little with her right rear foot and once or twice she has refused. It is becoming more consistent each time we do it.

When we worked the ground work, she was very attentive. I let her eat grass a couple of weeks ago and since then she has been a little more eager to pull when walking with me, my mistake. Once I brought her to the center of the ring, however, and started to ask for specific behaviors she appeared to be working hard at figuring out my cues and giving me the requested actions. Although nothing is perfect and she is still easily distracted by cars pulling into the parking lot and people coming down the hill, you can tell when she is trying to pay attention and respond appropriately.

In my effort to keep things light and simple, I was just going to ask her for walks and whoas on the longe line. Since I hadn't asked her to burn any energy all week I didn't want to push my luck by actually asking her to move faster than a walk. Her walk was fast, she was definitely ready and willing to move, but she never broke into a trot on her own and ultimately I did ask for a few steps of trot on the right rein. She's still not stopping upon first request, she goes anywhere from two steps to two circles around me while I say "whoa" over and over. She responds more quickly over the course of each session and I have the distinct impression that ifI were more consistent in my efforts, she would have it. We'll get it. It's just taking us longer, my fault I know.

Can you tell I'm rushing to get to the under saddle work? I am.

My primary goal is still teaching Matilda the vocal commands - right now focusing on "walk on" and "whoa". The same readiness to move that I saw on the lunge line worked in my favor as we worked under saddle. We made real progress with "walk on". Many, many times on Friday, I sat limp in the saddle, said "walk on" and she moved forward. She moved more definitively than the last time we tried it, too... almost with purpose, I would say. Of course, with that willingness to move she also moved forward without me asking and it took me 3-4 tries before I could mount her without her trying to walk away, whatever....

And, of course, she doesn't stop on vocal command alone. I have to use the rein aids. As with everything else in this experience, I probably need to think through this a little more specifically and be a little more methodical with how we work. I need to spend one day just mounting over and over. One day just clicking for "walk on" and then another for "whoa", working through each command separately instead of squishing them all in one day. You know, boring but necessary work-type stuff... maybe next week:)

After we had done walk ons and whoas, it was time to have some fun. I was having another bold and sassy day, the ring was empty and I was anxious to do something. Last time we tried the trot (a rising/posting trot, I should say), we did a few steps on and a few steps off. Mostly straight lines, maybe one corner. Friday was to be the same. We walked around the ring and as we came out of the corner and into the straightaway I asked for the trot (with both vocal and leg aids, as before). As we came down the straight we started to pass a jump and I decided to see if we could circle it - how would she do as I asked for some bend with rein and leg aids, but no bit in her mouth. She circled it beautifully and we finished back on the rail and dropped into an easy walk before we got to the next corner.

We changed direction and I asked for another trot in the same place. She picked up an easy trot, with less prompting than before (as with "whoa", the more often you ask the more responsive and ready she gets), and we trotted all the way down the straightaway at a nicely paced even trot. It was going so nicely that I decided to keep going. I didn't go all the way into the corner, I didn't want to risk making a last minute mistake and getting stuck, but asked for her to start turning about 4 feet before we got there. Piece of cake, so we kept going. We went around the ring twice at that nice, easy pace. Every once in a while, she would start to slow down and I would add a little leg or make a little kissing sound and she would immediately pick back up into our easy going trot.

At some point, the three year old in me realized that no one was seeing this, so I yelled across her head and the ring into the barn, "HEY YOU GUYS ARE MISSING THIS!!!" Even my ill-timed bellowing couldn't phase her and we were able to complete a couple more turns around the ring, taking one brake to trot a small circle around a jump while people watched. As we came trotting towards the gate and the barn (you horse people know what a draw those things can be), I squeezed with my hands and said "walk" - she immediately dropped into the walk and stopped. I rode her for a nice cool down and back to the barn for our un-tacking madness. (Although she is also getting much better at standing still for that process too)

This does no justice to the feeling I had in this experience. It was relaxing. Free. Almost effortless. And then we just kept going....

I was giddy but left wondering what was so exceptional about this. I mean, Matilda is not green. She was taught to walk, trot, canter, jump, proper flexion and so forth. So why is this such a big deal? I had to look back to my first experiences with Matilda-two or three years ago, long before I started this project. My first ride with Matilda, she ran off with me constantly. The second, I don't remember what she was doing, I remember that I was frustrated to the point of tears. The third was the same as the second, but I had a sense of humor about it. This past Friday was so easy, what's the difference?

I mean think about it - I have only been on Matilda 3-6 times. There hasn't been any aggressive saddle work. Not only that, but over the last 2 years, the vast majority of my work with horses has been ground work. Even so, am I a better rider than I was 2 years ago? Absolutely. Is Matilda a more willing partner? Most definitely.

Of those 2 years of ground work, 8 months (less all those days and weeks that I said to myself, "I don't want to this" and therefore didn't) has been with Matilda, in part if not in entirety. We have spent time together building a foundation of trust and reward. I have been attempting to shape her into a horse that understands that there are benefits to doing the things I ask her to do and I think, I hope, that work is what is paying off now. We let her be her and me be me and met each other each day with a plan that we had to be willing to leave behind. I have lost my temper, she has refused to work but there was no severe punishment involved (I don't think-although I have not always behaved well), I tried to just walk away from those days or do as little as possible. On the days when we were both present and willing the rewards were frequent and good. She knows what to expect from me and a little of what I expect of her. Eight months of relationship building and we did something, with very little effort, that I would not have dreamed of being able to do with her two years ago. Something I didn't dare dream about eight months ago.

Riding without an agenda. Horsemanship without a timeline. Building a relationship as it comes to you and letting it unfold. The waiting and patience is so hard but if you can do it, it makes everything that comes after so much easier.

None of this is new but sometimes experience makes old thoughts and ideas become new wisdom.

Make no mistake, I don't pretend that everything will be smooth sailing from here on out. Even writing this makes me feel nervous. Like I sound cocky. People pay for cockiness. I am well aware of who I am dealing with and that there are (attempted?) break aways coming down the road and who knows what else. I may be screaming about the she-beast tomorrow.

But Friday was gold. We were together, for awhile, in every way.

Matilda Under Saddle

Yes, under saddle:) Although I have griped about the busy barn and full ring, I have been back on Matilda a few times in the last three weeks. Thanks to my dear Kaitlyn, I have lots of pictures from our very best day.... so far.

I have her in the bridle that belonged to my own horse, Bella, but have rigged it to work without a bit. Keeping things pleasant, you know, and nicer for taking carrots.

Ah, carrots. It is harder than anticipated to get carrots from the saddle to Matilda's mouth. The more we do it the better our coordination gets but the first couple of days there was a lot of maneuvering to pick up dropped carrots and a lot of thumb and finger biting. Unintentional.... I think.... I hope.

On Thursday, the 11th, our coordination was so poor that it was impossible to actually work on any goals. Trying to get her to "walk on" requires a certain rhythm of words and movement that cannot be achieved when one has to constantly stop to rub one's fingers or pause to back the horse while pointing to the ground and saying, "It's your fault, you dropped it.... Can't you see, it's right there!! Just put your head down!!" She has gotten better at retrieving the dropped carrots, I am proud to state.... any achievement, no matter how small, right?

I was also feeling bold and sassy that Thursday, so without being able to work on our actual goals, we just played and tried stuff out. Using plain old leg and rein adds (words too) we walked and stopped a lot, attempting to reward for good behavior along the way.

She was so quiet and easy while I was up there that I couldn't stand it and asked her to trot! She did beautifully. I used the same three step process, along with light leg aids, asking first, "Matilda, are you ready?" Then, "Matilda, Trot!" and lastly "Up, Up!" She came up to the trot at the exact same point that she would have, had I asked on the longe line. We only trotted a few steps before I squeezed back with the reins and asked her to "walk"; she fell into the walk immediately, to my tremendous joy and pleasure. We did that several times around the ring, alternating between walking and stopping or walking, trotting, walking and stopping, as I happily clicked and dropped carrots all over the ring.

It popped into my head to see if some of the ground work was translating (this was before I started working with the whip for over) so we went to the center of the ring and stopped. I pressed my left leg into her side and said "over". It was amazing to feel that big body shift under me as she moved laterally, away from my leg. I hollered out, "Kim! Kim! Watch me!!" like a three year old doing penny drops and repeated the movement. She confirmed that what I thought was happening actually was happening. Matilda was moving her whole body sideways, stepping out and crossing her front then her hind legs under her. Very cool. Wonderful day. We finished it out by giving Kaitlyn a "pony ride" on Matilda, with me leading them around the ring, as a thank you for all the pictures and just because we could:)

This past week, I was up on Matilda one more time. This time we were able to work on the voice commands. It will be a slow process, but I know she can get it. I started it the same way that I did on the ground, saying "walk on" as I squeezed with my legs and clicking when she took a step. Unlike when I was on the ground, when I said "walk on" without squeezing, she did not move right away. She would eventually, but I had to sit on her awhile and wait it out. The walk is much slower and lazier if it starts from just a verbal command too. That may just be because she is unsure and I don't really mind a slow, lazy walk at this point.

We also spent some time on mounting and dismounting. The first time I got on her, she stood rock still, but in later days she was moving forward as I tried to mount. At the end of our session this past week, I got off and on her three times before she stood still while I mounted. When she did, I clicked, rewarded and called it quits. I didn't ask for a repeat, maybe I should have, but why press your luck? There's always next week.

Matilda on the Lunge Line

I'm not really sure how much there is to say about our longe work of late. There have been days wherein the barn was so busy, we couldn't carve out a nitch to work on it.

Over the last week, the weather has cooled off and she has been more difficult to manage. She has been more apt to rush or try to break out, but thus far I have been able to hold on to her and bring her down. I have also been asking her to walk longer without reward which I suspect precipitates some of the break away moments.

One day, a couple of weeks ago, she broke out into a full on canter, the first one I've seen in quite a while. I was very proud of myself for hanging on through a full circle around me and then bringing her in and down. She didn't stop moving until she was about 3 feet away from me, but she did stop. I don't reward her for stopping at that point. Don't worry.

I spent some time last week really challenging her with the longe whip, swinging it and moving it erratically, while expecting her to either stand still or continue walking. That was an interesting day. There was a lot of dropping the whip as she took off and bringing her in to me to stop her. A real challenge to my physical and her mental strengths. Ultimately she did very well and by the end of the day she was able to maintain a calm(ish) walk as I picked the whip off the ground, swung it over my head and brought the whip tip to the ground quickly.

Why would I do this, you may ask? I want Matilda to be as "bomb proof" as possible. I won't always be the one dealing with her and people are weird. I really don't expect her to be able to keep her cool if someone comes up behind her cracking a whip, but I'd like to know she is capable of trusting me not to touch her harshly with it. If she can trust me, she can trust others. This exercise was asking a lot, I knew that, but I was sort of looking to see where we were.

That's about all I can say. She still walks, trots and whoas at the end of the lunge line. Well, until she doesn't. There have been days that she just wasn't listening. I would get her walking and then ask her to stop and she would walk 3 circles around me before turning towards me and walking all the way into my space as if to say, "Did you say something? Was that good enough?" She still rushes and pulls and the cooler nights have made these moments more frequent than I would like it to be but it has all been manageable. That's vital. I am always able to bring her down somehow. I am always able to get some sort of decent upward and downward transitions out of her. (well, except for that one day, but the food cart went by right as we were getting started...) She is getting fewer food rewards for her work on the longe, although there are plenty, and my arm muscles are getting stronger. 'Nuff said.